Fic: "Bewitched."
Title: Bewitched
Fandom: Supernatural
Character(s)/Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Sam
Word Count: 744
Prompt: other: while talking for kissbingo: my card is here
Rating: PG-13 (I guess. There's nothing graphic.)
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Summary: The boys run into some witches. Dean and Cas get ~hit. There is snogging.
BEWITCHED
“Isn’t there… something you can do?”
Sam shook his head, obviously sympathetic. “I, uh…” He looked away, eyes on the floor, shifting from foot to foot in acute discomfort. “No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. He kept his eyes on the dirty motel carpet, staring at a large, oily stain by the foot of the bed. “If we don’t know what caused it, then…”
He trailed off, mouth open and trembling a little as Castiel made a sound halfway between a squeak and a groan as Dean reached down and unzipped his fly.
“Sam,” Castiel said, lips parted and eyes marginally wider. His voice was hard and deliberate, beads of sweat on his forehead and neck. “Please get him off.”
“I’m trying,” Dean said, running his hands down Castiel’s chest and nipping hard at his ear. Castiel squirmed against him, pushing Dean’s hand away from his groin. “You think this is what I want?” His arm wrapped around Castiel’s shoulders, hand slipping underneath the trench coat. Dean had managed to control himself enough to keep Castiel’s clothes on, but it didn’t look like he would be able to keep in check much longer. His nose ran in a long, trembling line up Castiel’s neck, and he breathed hard, his grip tightening into the soft cloth of Cas’ clothes. “God,” he said, his nose at the soft curve where neck met shoulder, his lips wet and warm and heavy against the skin.
Cas leant his head back, groaning. Sam cringed a little at the sound, halfway to pain. “Sam.” His eyes were half-closed, and his eyelashes were trembling as he struggled to keep them open.
“I, uh.” He shielded his eyes with one hand and swallowed. “What happened exactly?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Dean said, his voice rough and breathy and half-annoyed.
Castiel, who up until then had seemed mostly immune, had turned towards Dean, their noses touching. One hand was on Dean’s face. “It was probably the witches.”
Dean’s lip curled up in disdain. “Fucking witches.”
Sam batted away his fringe with the back of his hand, still trying to keep his eyes off his brother and the angel. Dean’s hair was bunched in Castiel’s hand and they were breathing into each others’ mouths, so close they could kiss.
Oh God, they were going to kiss weren’t they, Sam thought, and the levels of awkwardness he felt were climbing rapidly. It was bad enough to see Dean just groping Castiel, but kissing was so much more active. There would tongues and participating and… tongues. Sam’s shoulders moved in an uncomfortable ripple at the thought.
“Sam,” Dean said, his eyes fixed on Castiel as he spoke. “Maybe it’s time you.”
Castiel licked his lips. “Left,” he finished.
Sam continued to squirm. “I thought.” He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and ignored the sudden slurpy sound as Castiel turned to face Dean. “I thought you said you could fight it.”
Cas extracted his tongue from Dean’s throat. “I thought I could.” His voice was hoarse and he didn’t look at Sam as he spoke. Dean kissed him again. “But it seems.” There was another pause and Sam glanced over for a second. Dean had discovered an interesting new way to inspect Castiel’s tonsils. He pulled away and stared at Dean. “I will not be able.”
Sam didn’t have any idea what to do. They both seemed willing enough, at least. He took a step forward, thinking that maybe he would step between them. Stop them, if he could.
But Dean didn’t seem harried or angry or… he really didn’t seem anything but a happy participant, pulling Cas in closer and sighing in warm, appreciative fashion.
And Sam decided that they didn’t really need his help or interference at all. “I’m going to do some research,” he said, “and uh. Try to figure out what’s wrong.”
They didn’t bother answering and Sam didn’t bother looking back as they threw Castiel’s tie after him. He kicked it back into the room and slammed the door.
~~~
Feedback is always appreciated!
Fandom: Supernatural
Character(s)/Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Sam
Word Count: 744
Prompt: other: while talking for kissbingo: my card is here
Rating: PG-13 (I guess. There's nothing graphic.)
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Summary: The boys run into some witches. Dean and Cas get ~hit. There is snogging.
BEWITCHED
“Isn’t there… something you can do?”
Sam shook his head, obviously sympathetic. “I, uh…” He looked away, eyes on the floor, shifting from foot to foot in acute discomfort. “No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. He kept his eyes on the dirty motel carpet, staring at a large, oily stain by the foot of the bed. “If we don’t know what caused it, then…”
He trailed off, mouth open and trembling a little as Castiel made a sound halfway between a squeak and a groan as Dean reached down and unzipped his fly.
“Sam,” Castiel said, lips parted and eyes marginally wider. His voice was hard and deliberate, beads of sweat on his forehead and neck. “Please get him off.”
“I’m trying,” Dean said, running his hands down Castiel’s chest and nipping hard at his ear. Castiel squirmed against him, pushing Dean’s hand away from his groin. “You think this is what I want?” His arm wrapped around Castiel’s shoulders, hand slipping underneath the trench coat. Dean had managed to control himself enough to keep Castiel’s clothes on, but it didn’t look like he would be able to keep in check much longer. His nose ran in a long, trembling line up Castiel’s neck, and he breathed hard, his grip tightening into the soft cloth of Cas’ clothes. “God,” he said, his nose at the soft curve where neck met shoulder, his lips wet and warm and heavy against the skin.
Cas leant his head back, groaning. Sam cringed a little at the sound, halfway to pain. “Sam.” His eyes were half-closed, and his eyelashes were trembling as he struggled to keep them open.
“I, uh.” He shielded his eyes with one hand and swallowed. “What happened exactly?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Dean said, his voice rough and breathy and half-annoyed.
Castiel, who up until then had seemed mostly immune, had turned towards Dean, their noses touching. One hand was on Dean’s face. “It was probably the witches.”
Dean’s lip curled up in disdain. “Fucking witches.”
Sam batted away his fringe with the back of his hand, still trying to keep his eyes off his brother and the angel. Dean’s hair was bunched in Castiel’s hand and they were breathing into each others’ mouths, so close they could kiss.
Oh God, they were going to kiss weren’t they, Sam thought, and the levels of awkwardness he felt were climbing rapidly. It was bad enough to see Dean just groping Castiel, but kissing was so much more active. There would tongues and participating and… tongues. Sam’s shoulders moved in an uncomfortable ripple at the thought.
“Sam,” Dean said, his eyes fixed on Castiel as he spoke. “Maybe it’s time you.”
Castiel licked his lips. “Left,” he finished.
Sam continued to squirm. “I thought.” He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and ignored the sudden slurpy sound as Castiel turned to face Dean. “I thought you said you could fight it.”
Cas extracted his tongue from Dean’s throat. “I thought I could.” His voice was hoarse and he didn’t look at Sam as he spoke. Dean kissed him again. “But it seems.” There was another pause and Sam glanced over for a second. Dean had discovered an interesting new way to inspect Castiel’s tonsils. He pulled away and stared at Dean. “I will not be able.”
Sam didn’t have any idea what to do. They both seemed willing enough, at least. He took a step forward, thinking that maybe he would step between them. Stop them, if he could.
But Dean didn’t seem harried or angry or… he really didn’t seem anything but a happy participant, pulling Cas in closer and sighing in warm, appreciative fashion.
And Sam decided that they didn’t really need his help or interference at all. “I’m going to do some research,” he said, “and uh. Try to figure out what’s wrong.”
They didn’t bother answering and Sam didn’t bother looking back as they threw Castiel’s tie after him. He kicked it back into the room and slammed the door.
~~~
Feedback is always appreciated!